The Third Type of Day
by Beck2
Summary: There are three types of days. Dresden has way too many of the third, and yesterday was one of them. Now that Andy Rees has Dresden's full attention, the real reason behind the attack yesterday morning comes to light.
1. Chapter 1

A/N

Welcome, everyone. To the readers who have wondered what I have been doing, and where I have been for the last fandom I wrote for, I'm sorry. Try as I might, I couldn't get the words to come out and the stories wouldn't move, even after the break I took from writing. So I'm leaving them behind, perhaps for awhile, perhaps forever, and am starting a new fandom. I appreciate that you read my stories, and your encouragement meant the world to me. To the new readers, please excuse my story if it doesn't move in the correct fashion. This is my first time writing for the Harry Dresden fandom, and I'd appreciate any comments I can get on my writing. Thank you for taking the time to read this. On with the show!

Disclaimer: I own not Harry Dresden or the Dresden Files. I kind of wish I owned the rights to Bob, but I doubt I could write either version half as well as they are now.

**Title(Working)**: The Third Type of Day

**Genre**: Humor/Drama

**Main pairings**: Wouldn't you prefer a surprise?

**Chapter 1**: Witness Protection or He's Got His Own Tongue

* * *

_Chicago, 8:35 AM._

There as generally three types of day. The first type is the type of day in which everything goes well, and it feels like you're walking on air. This day is usually reserved for first loves, weddings, and all sorts of happy occasions. The second is a normal day, in which the world is going fine, no big mishaps. I yearn for more of these days. The third is the type of day that you know you shouldn't have gotten out of bed for.

My life is riddled with the third kind.

And today? Today was going to be one of them.

Murphy and I were looking at the scene of an accident. If cars were ripped apart by what looked like teeth and claws, judging by the hood of a now ignited SUV, could be called an accident. Usually that sort of thing is intentional.

Five or six cars were in various stages of demolished. Two were still on fire, with Chicago Firemen keeping everyone back from them. Murphy had told me that they refused to stop burning. Not being an expert on burning vehicles, I don't know if that's weird or not, but it's probably not good. The most torn apart vehicle, not even recognizable anymore, was in the approximate center of the disaster area. It had been parked up next to the curb. Now part of it was parked on the curb, another part a half a block away. At least, I'm fairly sure it was the same car.

Kirmani had his back turned to us, talking to some uniforms. A small group of spectators were gathering behind the police tape.

"Pedestrians a few blocks over called it in. Said they heard a pack of dogs howling and then car alarms going off." Murphy said, breaking me from my observations.

"What, dogs did this?" I asked incredulously. They were either some really big dogs or something that resembled dogs…no, better not get ahead of myself. Better exhaust the possibilities of non-monster canines running around the Chicago area.

"Don't know. Only one witness. Found him under the center car."

I did a double take and stared at the unrecognizable piece of wreckage.

"Under there? What did he say?"

"He has his own tongue." Murphy deadpanned.

"Hunh?" I looked at her, totally confused and a little creeped out.

Kirmani walked up to Murphy, gave me an exasperated look, then turned to her. "Butters got the cat. Said he can take the tooth out, but doesn't know if the cat will make it."

Oh. Got his own tongue. I get it.

"Right. Take a look around Dresden- we're going to the morgue after this."

"Joy. Hey, I thought you usually take cats to vets, Murph."

"Not when they're carrying important evidence on or in their bodies. Hurry up." She gave me the 'don't-give-me-crap' look before turning back around to give Kirmani orders.

So I didn't. I started looking around.

It's rare for Murphy to call me in on a case that doesn't involve dead people. But then again, it's rare that four or five cars to get torn apart, presumably by animals. I bent down to look at one of the doors that had been flung haphazardly from it's owner. The claw marks were huge. Bigger than anything I'd every seen. Not the spread of the Lycanthropes last spring, but the piercing went much deeper.

I started to sweat a little. Sure, a bear could have probably caused those marks, but it was unlikely that a pack of bears was ravaging SUVs in broad daylight in Chicago.

At least they weren't hellhounds. Not even hellhounds had claw marks like that. They like biting.

That didn't matter though. I had something big in Chicago. And judging by testimony Murphy had told me about, there could be a whole pack of these things. Even worse, I didn't know what they were. Other than not dogs, bears, or hellhounds.

"Dresden! Get in the car!" Murphy hollered at me. I jumped a little, surprised.

Yeah. It's gonna be one of those days.

* * *

'_It hurts.'_

Bleary eyes opened, and then closed against the bright light. Andy couldn't swallow. His mouth was too dry, and the light only reminded him of it, made him so thirsty.

Voices swirled around him. Incoherent.

'_I must have gotten smacked around pretty good.'_

Twitching muscles across his body, he horrifiedly realized something.

'_I can't feel my leg.'_

……

'_I can't feel my leg!!'_

Panic proved to be his undoing-as soon as he tried to get up, to test his leg, to make sure it was really there, that everything was just a horrible, _horrible_ misunderstanding, his head swirled with sudden dizziness, and he blacked out, falling forward against the hard surface.

* * *

"We managed to extract the tooth safely." Butters commented while he sewed up the unconscious cat on the metal table. "Our witness actually might make it. I'm just sewing him up, but the Urban Veterinary Care clinic is sending over a doctor to take a look at him. Apparently he gets priority, being a police witness and all. Though, I kinda wonder who would wanna-" 

"Butters!" Murphy barked. He jumped (lot of that happening around here) and looked up.

"Sorry. I was babbling, wasn't I?"

"The tooth."

"On the counter." He pointed one bloody-gloved hand. "Take a look under the microscope. It looks just like a dog's but it's huge. I'm surprised it didn't sever limbs."

On that happy note, Murphy and I took turns looking into the microscope.

Damn. It was big. At least four times bigger than any dog tooth I'd ever seen. With a mouthful of these, it'd be easy to rip up a car door. Or a person.

Damn.

"Any ideas, Dresden?"

"I'd have to consult my notes, but I think you may want to issue an alert for everyone to be off the street before nightfall."

"The attack happened this morning." Murphy said, raising an eyebrow.

"Let's just say," I glanced back at Butters, who was fully engrossed with sewing up the poor cat, and lowered my voice. "Let's just say that these things, these …dog things? They're probably going to be more active at night. And it may not be a cat they chase around next."

Murphy pursed her lips. Obviously she'd already considered this. "Any idea why they went after a cat in the first place? I mean, if these things are as big as I'm led to believe, I doubt the cat would have been much of a meal."

"Maybe they're on a diet? Or reliving the long standing animosity of cats and dogs? I don't know Murph." I turned and looked behind me again, this time at the cat.

Just a cat. Yellow, I think. Hard to tell with the blood. He didn't look good. But the breathing was regular and most of the wounds had been sewed up. But Murphy was right. He was too small for a meal.

"You might want to put the cat into witness protection or something." I said wryly, only half-joking. "It's just a cat, but if they were chasing him, maybe he's important."

"I know somebody who'd love to take him."

"Who?"

"Kirmani."

"Kirmani's a cat person?" News to me.

"No. Drank my coffee this morning."

Ouch. Kinda feel sorry for the guy.

She looked at me. "Any way to tell where, when, how, anything about this pack?"

"I'm going to need something." I looked pointedly at the tooth.

"That's evidence."

"I need it for comparison." I didn't want to tell her I could track them with the tooth, she'd try to come with. I wasn't sure I wanted to track them.

"I'll get you a picture." Her statement had the note of finality to it. I knew better than to argue. Might make her group me with Kirmani.

I'd have to make do. It was probably for the best. I'd go home, pick Bob's brain over what it could be, and then figure up a defense. If I needed to track them, well, we'd cross that bridge when we came to it.

* * *

Please leave constructive criticisms at your leisure, flames will be analyzed, then most like laughed at and ignored, compliments are greatly appreciated. Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story so far. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N

I thank the reviewers of the last chapter for reviewing, you are very kind. I hope that you will enjoy the next two chapters, and adressing the shortness in chapter length, I will try to make them longer (thank you, faithinthecharm), and regarding the cat (thank you, tigerlily0), I hope you will be pleasantly surprised.

Chapter title: **Tracking in Reverse** or **Pawprints of Time Past**

Disclaimer: I do not own Dresden. I wish I did, but in a perfect world for everyone, everyone would own Dresden and I'd be sad because I was no longer unique.

* * *

"They pulled this out of a cat?" Bob asked incredulously. 

"Yeah. It was pretty torn up. Any idea what it came from?" I gestured at the picture that Bob had been looking at.

The police photo had identified the tooth as being a three inch molar. At least, as far as could be determined. Having no actual animal to compare it with made comparison a little bit difficult.

Bob tapped his chin with his finger and paced the small floor of the lab. I watched him think. Murphy would want information soon, but hurrying Bob would just serve to get him annoyed at me.

"It could be from any number of demons and feybeasts, but that's unlikely."

"How so?"

"Murphy said the attack took place in the morning?"

"Yeah?"

"So," Bob gave me an exasperated look, "Almost all summoning of this type must be done at night. Daylight destroys the magical bonds."

"So what else could it be?"

"What else indeed? An enchanted animal, perhaps? Full scale transformations can be permanent and daylight wouldn't affect them. Or perhaps it's some sort of theriomorph-"

"Theriomorph… what, like a werewolf? Like last fall?" I cut in fast, before he could lose himself in whatever train of thought he was traveling in.

"No, not quite. Lycanthropes like the ones you encountered earlier are bound by the phases of the moon. Theriomorphs are shape shifters-witches and wizards that move freely between human and animal form. Most stories cite the common theriomorphic form of cats, but it isn't restricted to cats or wolves. Dogs, mice, deer, any animal you can conceivably think of. Usually it's a one spell, one person thing, but get a powerful or well versed wizard and you end up with some interesting happenings." Bob said while bending down to look at the tooth picture again.

"So… we may be dealing with a pack of wizards running around as large monster canines?"

"Perhaps. You shouldn't rule out any possibilities."

"I don't think so. That's way too risky. The High Council would have a field day. Morgan would have come here immediately to accuse me of something."

"He may still." Bob pointed out. "You are in the middle of an investigation regarding large dogs that are almost certainly magic or created by magic."

"Thanks for reminding me." I groaned. "So that aside, what would possess them to run around in Chicago in broad daylight?"

"I can't think or a single intelligent reason. There's far better ways of going around things than advertising your existence to everyone. Unless…" Bob straightened up and looked ahead.

"Unless what?" I asked curiously. Usually when Bob did this, it was an epiphany that usually turned out to be right.

"Unless it was a warning or some sort of intimidation tactic."

I picked up on his train of thought almost immediately, which is a feat in itself for me. "What better way to intimidate than to attack when they feel safe- a city in broad daylight?"

"Exactly."

"But if this was a message, who was supposed to get it?" I asked.

"Who owns the cat?" He replied.

* * *

"Let me get this straight: you think the cat was the actual target?" Murphy asked me skeptically. 

It had been a couple of hours since I left Murphy at the morgue-I had a feeling that her mood was not as improved over the situation as I had hoped.

"I think whatever the attack was from this morning was used as some sort of warning to whoever the cat belongs to."

"What, like sending a message?" She considered the implications. "Person must really like his cat."

"People love their pets." I supplied. She gave me a look before getting up out of her chair and heading away from her cubicle. "What, you never had pets?"

She ignored me all the way to the morgue.

When we walked in, an attractive blonde doctor was bent over the mound of yellow fur on the coroners table. Butters was off to the side, looking apprehensively over the woman's shoulder. An IV had been hooked up to the cat.

"What's the prognosis?" Murphy asked.

"He has all the signs of making it!" The doctor said cheerfully, looking up. "It's really a miracle. He seems to be doing better already. It's a good job you all sewed him up. He could have bled out."

I squinted to read the nametag on the woman's shirt. Norma Wellers, Veterinarian.

Murphy turned to me. "At the crime scene there were no tags or collar."

"So we don't know who the owner is?" I said, a sinking feeling starting.

"Not necessarily." Butters piped up. "According to Norma-I mean, Dr. Wellers, we may be able to track down the owner with tracking chips."

"Tracking chips?" I asked. Sounded like technology. Maybe I should leave…

"It's the newest fashion in pet care these days." Dr. Wellers said proudly. "Pet owners that have their pets and don't want them to get lost have their doctors implant chips into the pet's skin, which can be scanned and then matched in the database." She turned and plucked up a bag that was on the floor. "It just so happens that I have a scanner here. I can find this poor little guy's ID if he has one and tell you who the owner is."

She pulled out what looked like a barcode scanner and passed it over the cat's shoulder. Then she frowned. "How odd."

"What?" Murphy asked.

"The scanner just went out."

Murhpy shot a look at me over her shoulder.

I knew I should have left the room. I hadn't even felt emotional or anything. The equipment must have been really sensitive.

"I'll go back downtown and pick up a new one. I'd rather not move the cat. The IV might come out."

"It was really hard to put in." Butter supplied.

"I'll be back soon!" Dr. Weller's shot a smile at Butters and walked quickly out of the morgue.

Now that I noticed, the morgue looked cleaner. Butters had such an obvious crush on 'Norma'…

"Dresden."

I looked back to Murphy. She must have caught my eyes wandering.

"What else can you tell me about the tooth?"

I made sure Butters was well away from earshot before telling Murphy what I thought.

"I did a little research, and this is going to sound bizarre, but I'm thinking these dogs? They aren't really dogs."

"What are they?" Murphy pressed.

I know I told Murphy about the magic, and even did the ant thing in front of her, but I was still leery about telling her about any of the heavy stuff. She may want to go arrest something from the other side. Though, if anybody could, it was her.

I decided to come clean. The last time I didn't tell her the whole truth she ended up thinking about leaving the force, and I didn't want that to happen again.

"Theriomorphs."

"What-whats?"

"Theriomorphs. Shape-shifters. Ever hear of witches turning into cats? Same principle."

She digested that tidbit of information. "So we have a bunch of people that can change into animals running around Chicago."

"I think so." A thought suddenly hit me. "Can I borrow some cat hair? I might be able to figure out some more information with it."

"Depends, are you going to tell me what you find out?"

"Murphy," I gave her my best smile. "I wouldn't keep that from you. We promised, right?"

She studied me for a moment, then jerked her head to the table. "Take some before Dr. Doolittle gets back."

"Yes officer."

She snorted in an unpetite way and then got a call on her cell phone, which she quickly answered. I got down to business. Hopefully, Bob and I could reverse engineer a tracking spell to show where the cat had been.

* * *

Back at my lab, Bob and I were looking at a glowing diagram that he had put together. 

"So will it work?" I asked. Bob pursed his lips and looked severely at his work.

"I'm not sure. We can't use the usual scrying method because we're going backwards instead of forwards in motion. We'll have to substitute the usual ingredients with reversal elements, and even then, the chances of making a working reverse tracking spell like this are suspect."

"Well, we gotta do something Bob. Night is going to fall in six hours and I'd like to find our cat owner before then, just in case they do send some sort of summon after him."

We spent an hour putting together the ingredients. The end result was, whereas a usual scrying potion is brown and goopy, mine was a bizarre shade of grey that seemed to be laced with acid green streaks.

"Try not to touch it." Bob intoned next to me. I decided to take his advice. I carefully placed my new quartz in the mixture, holding onto the wire that kept it aloft tightly. The potion hissed as the crystal dipped below the surface.

I waited a few seconds longer than usual to make sure the potion took, then pulled the crystal out.

None of the potion came with it. The crystal was shining brightly with confined energy.

And it was an entirely different shape. It looked like it had just been unearthed. The wire was stretched tightly across a section that had been a lot less thick a few seconds ago.

"Woah." I blinked as I lifted the crystal up to eye level. Light shining from it was illuminating the entire lab, even into the bookshelf I hadn't touched in years.

"You need to clean your bookshelf. See what I've been telling you?" Bob put in while examining the crystal.

"Did it work?" I asked a little foolishly. It wasn't reacting like a regular scrying crystal, so I didn't know what to think.

"It did." Bob said smugly. "See the way it looks? It's reverted back to its created state. The energy in it should be a bit of the essence of the cat. With any luck you should be able to take it to any area that the cat has been and it will show you the path it came from."

"Nice." I said appreciatively. "I'll be back soon."

I turned and went to leave the lab.

"Harry."

"Yeah Bob?" I glanced over my shoulder.

"Take your staff. And be careful."

"Yeah. I will Bob. Don't worry."

* * *

Please leave your reviews and comments in the box below. Constuctive criticism is welcomed at all times, as well as advice on how to make the characters seem more in tune with the TV version or book.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N

A double chapter update. Please enjoy, and as always, constructive criticisms are welcome. Expext the next update on the weekend: school unfortunately bogs the unwary down with homework, and I'm trying to keep ahead.

Title: **The Problem With Cats** or **That Poor, Unlucky Schmuck.**

Disclaimer: By now, this should speak for itself. Dresden is not mine, and if it was, the new season would be on by now.

* * *

"Cat gets around." I muttered to myself as the crystal tilted again. I had been walking down this particular sidewalk for ten minutes. Now I was turning down another sidewalk. 

Thankfully, so far I'd only climbed into one person's yard so far while tracking the cat's footsteps. It hadn't tried climbing any trees, either.

Instead of a usual scrying crystal which would point unerringly in the direction of the person one was seeking, this one was following the actual footsteps of my furry acquaintance-in reverse. It was slow going. Night was very close-only an hour away- and I had yet to find hide or hair of the cat's owner. I was getting a little nervous.

The crystal tilted again, this time pointing down a dirty alleyway. I looked down it with misgivings. Nothing good came of wandering down dark, dirty alleyways, no matter what you were searching for.

Luckily, I had a trusty wizard's staff- good for creating barriers, fireballs, and hitting muggers over the head.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself, walking into the alleyway with my best 'don't mess with me' posture. The funny thing about most aggressors is that they often think twice about attacking someone who looks like they'd hit back. I try to keep the impression with me as much as possible in these situations.

I walked down the alley about fifteen feet when the crystal swung hard and pointed at the side of a building.

Directly at a rotting piece of wood with a cat-sized hole at the bottom.

I stuffed the crystal in my jacket pocket and bent down to take a look. There was no fur caught on the sides of the wood-odd, because usually cats would shed as they rubbed up against something so rough.

Poking the wood experimentally, I was surprised when it gave under my touch. Reaching into the cat's hole, I got a good grip and pulled. The rotting wood fell forward, breaking free of the less rotted wood around it, opening a four foot space around where I was crouched.

Cockroaches scurried fast away from me as the rotting wood exposed them to the air.

Things were huge. No wonder the cat hung out here. He probably ate them for food; they were the size of mice.

Leading with my wizards staff, I crept into the space, shooing away cockroaches from where I needed to put my hands.

After stepping through the makeshift doorway, I found myself in a small room, with a ceiling to low to support my height. I stooped down uncomfortably to examine my new surroundings.

There was a small pile of clothes in the corner, where the cat-shaped impression could be easily seen. Across from that, a small bag, a folded change of clothes, and a couple of bottles of water.

Curious, I picked up the bag and opened it. Inside was a piece of chalk, a couple of herbs wrapped in gauze, and a small package wrapped in brown cloth. Untying the cloth, I unrolled it to find a necklace.

A shield necklace.

I blinked and held the necklace up, examining it more closely. It was dark, but I could see thirteen shields, a usual number for the wizarding community. But there was one extra piece.

A cat charm. A stylized sitting cat with onyx eyes.

Shield amulets are not rare in the wizarding world. Difficult to make, yes. But anyone with a great deal of patience and time can make a shield amulet, and it's common to see them on any warden. The only difference between those and mine is that mine's more powerful. Just another thing to thank Mom for.

The shield necklace was a lot like a wardens', from the feel of magical energy in it. But there was a few extra spells sitting in it. I'd have to give it to Bob to see what.

I frowned and wrapped up the necklace in its cloth again. I picked up the bag and stared at the contents and then looked at the small room again.

Something wasn't quite right here.

This was a great place for a cat, but…chalk, herbs, shield necklace…these were the tools of a practitioner. And nobody could practice magic in this small a space. Well, they could, but once you start writing signs on the wall and ceiling its way too easy to mess something up.

I took stock of the other things. A change of clothes. Bottled water. A cat wouldn't need that. A cat couldn't open the bottles, for that matter.

Oh crap.

A sudden realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

I can't believe how stupid I am.

I ran out through the entryway, scattering roaches as I went. Keeping a good grip on my staff and the bag, I hightailed it to the nearest payphone.

When I got within thirty feet, I took a few deep, calming breaths as I approached. I couldn't afford to short-circuit it.

Scrounging my pockets for change, I quickly came up with the right amount and dialed Murphy's number.

It rang twice, and then Murphy answered.

"Lieutenant Murphy, Special Investigation Squad-"

"Murphy! It's me Dresden. Hey, listen, you still got that cat in the morgue right?"

"Dresden? What's going on?" her voice took on a puzzled tone.

"Please, just tell me you have the cat in custody."

"Sent it home with Kirmani. What's up?"

"You sent it home with Kirmani?! Why would you do that Murph?!" I despaired.

"Because I said I would this morning? Because the higher-ups aren't going to foot the bill for a cat to be watched in a veterinarian's office for the duration of the investigation? Because they won't let a cat hang out in the morgue? Because the cat was okayed by the vet we had, to be okay as long as it was on drugs? The list goes on, Dresden. Wanna tell me what this is all about?"

"Remember what I told you about theriomorphs? How they change from one shape to another?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember when I told you cats were the most common examples?!"

"What? Wait a minute-you're telling me that our cat is actually a human being?" He voice pitched down into a low whisper.

"Yeah. And what's more, he's a practitioner. Probably one with at least a little gift, judging by what I just found. I'm willing to bet that the attack this morning wasn't a warning. It was a hit. They almost killed him. And I bet they aren't going to stop-"

"-until they finish the job. Right. I'm calling Kirmani. Where are you?"

I gave her the address quickly. She told me that she'd pick me up as soon as she got Kirmani on the line.

Behind me, night fell.

* * *

It was days like these that he wished he'd never caused any trouble outside his own territory. Or within it, for that matter. 

He glared indignantly, if hazily, at the bars of the metal fence in front of his nose while the thrum of a close engine whisked him away to Bast knows where. His captor, a policeman, if his eyes hadn't betrayed him in that moment of stillness, was grousing to himself about something or other. Apparently _he_ thought _he_ was being mistreated.

His leg hurt. But his intense relief had overwhelmed him when he realized it was still there, still functioning.

The trouble with being a cat was that just about everyone was bigger than a cat, and injuries are very easy to happen. He was beginning to wonder why he had chosen a cat, instead of something that could run faster or had bigger teeth. He was sure that a bear would not be in this car listening to the grousing of an irate police officer, and he wouldn't be having his leg difficulties.

That, and he wouldn't be having difficulties distinguishing the number of people in the car with him.

There was supposed to be only one person in the driver's seat, right?

"Can't believe this…damn phone."

His ears perked slightly, but the man (men?) in the seat were speaking in tones that pitched and rolled and danced in front of his eyes with bright blue wings like that dragonfly he had been hungry enough to eat the fifth or so time he transformed.

'_Pretty_.' He thought groggily as the sounds danced between the bars in front of his nose.

He closed his eyes against the swirly blue lights. They were giving him motion sickness.

A half second later he woke up, feeling gravity work in reverse. The grumbling man was there again, lifting the cage and carrying him inside a giant cavernous hole that went forever, never ending into the abyss…

**CLICK.**

Light flooded the room. A couch, some chairs, a table, a desk, some other things that started to dance in front of his eyes. A chair did a pirouette with a coffee table in synchronized fashion.

'_What the hell am I on?'_ He wondered, blinking against the bright light. '_I wanna know_.'

The cage was put down in a kitchen, and he felt the cold tile through the bars. It served to bring his thoughts back ever so slightly. A door opened and cool air passed across his fur, making him involuntarily puff up. This door closed and the policeman opened something with a pop.

His nose smelled beer. A normally welcome smell after stress made him want to wretch.

The policeman (there was only one…) threw off his jacket, loosened his tie, and sank down into one of his kitchen chairs. He looked at the cat.

Andy looked back.

"I suppose you're wondering why you gotta sit around with me." The policeman tilted the bottle to his lips.

'_Among other things_.' He thought, trying to push away the hallucination of a pink weasel dancing on the man's head.

"I'm wondering too. I mean, Murphy can't really think you can tell us anymore stuff now that we got the tooth. We shoulda just left you in a shelter where you could have been picked up by a nice loving family by now, instead of sitting here listening to a cop over a beer."

'_Don't want a beer right now, thanks_.'

"It's just gonna get downhill from here on in, too. Dresden's on the case."

'_Dresden? Harry Dresden?_' His ears perked forward. His eyes were focusing little by little, and the pink animal was diminishing into a haze of spotty color.

"You know." The policeman got very solemn all of a sudden. "I know Dresden closes cases but the things they say around the police house about SI…it's all just a joke. But I've seen some things, and I'm beginning to wonder what's going on. Like when we found you. No bears in Chicago. Not like what they're saying. So where'd you come from? Why were you the unlucky schmuck?"

He took a swig of beer and loosened the shoulder holster he was still wearing.

'_I'm the unlucky schmuck alchemist_.' He thought sarcastically back. Then something started building up in the back of his skull, giving him an intense wave of vertigo.

"Maybe they were right when they transferred me over to SI. Maybe I was just seeing things."

"I'm seeing things." Andy said giddily as another wave of dizziness disrupted his vision and brought new hallucinations. "I'm seeing sounds."

It would take exactly one minute for Andy Rees to realize what he had just done, and almost a minute and a half for Detective Kirmani to recover.

A half minute later than that, the windows shattered as the night erupted into howls.

* * *

"I couldn't get him." She slammed the pedal to the floor. "Either his phone is off-" 

"Or it's shorted out. Your vet, she came back with another scanner right? That one not work either?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?" She glanced over at me.

"I had a hunch. It all fits Murphy. The theriomorph must have had enough magic to short out the scanner."

"Why didn't you realize it?" She demanded harshly. She was worried about Kirmani.

"I was so busy trying to figure out everything else and staying away from the electronics that it never occurred to me to look closely at the cat. As far as I was concerned, any magical mishap was my fault."

"So what do we do when we find them?"

I thought about this.

"A circle of binding-it should keep him from doing anything magical to us. And keep him physically bound."

"You make it sound like he's the one that's dangerous. What about the other things?"

A horn blared as we ran a red light. I looked over at her seriously. "Believe me, a cornered wizard is dangerous, no matter what he's cornered by. If he freaks and tries to blast us, I'd much rather have a barrier between me and the fireballs, wouldn't you?"

She took a wide turn into the street and honked her horn at an old lady in a Buick. The woman gave her a rude gesture I barely had time to see.

What I did have plenty of time to see was the massive four legged demon canine materialize in front of Murphy's SUV.

Swearing, Murphy stomped on the breaks and swerved. The demon opened its mouth and howled. I clapped my hands over my ears as the windows cracked then shattered.

"Damn!" I wasn't sure who said it, me or Murphy.

When the car screeched to a stop and the demon loped past with its nose to the ground, I realized where it was heading.

Detective Kirmani's house. It had to be the same animal witnesses heard this morning. I could have wondered why it was out now. But that would have been time consuming.

I leapt from the passenger side of the car and gathered up energy in my staff. The big demon turned it's canine head in my direction and glared, but didn't move to attack, just to gaze at me hatefully.

I didn't give it a chance to consider an attack. I pointed my staff at its big ugly head.

"FUEGO!"

It blew the head of the creature right off.

No way is it that easy.

But, apparently, it was. The rest of the creature went stiff, fell over, and dissolved into black ash.

"That was interesting." I murmured with a frown. I couldn't be that easy, could it?

"Dresden! Move it! There's a pack of them, remember?" Murphy ran past me with a shotgun in hand.

I hurried after her.

We had to stop and take out three more of the demon dogs. They didn't fight back. I was getting paranoid.

When we got to Kirmani's house, the place looked like it had been gutted. A large hole had been chewed through the wall, all the windows were broken.

"Kirmani! Kirmani!" Murphy called out his name while keeping the gun at the ready. No one answered.

We went in cautiously, stepping over debris. There were piles of black ash around the kitchen-someone had put up a good fight there. On the floor was a mangled cage. Pieces of bandage were hanging off the sharp, broken edge of the cage.

Kirmani was nowhere to be found.

"Can you track them?" Murphy demanded. I saw the look in her eyes and quickly nodded. She had a man in trouble, and she was going to get him back if she had to crawl down one if those demon's throats to do it.

I quickly looked around. "I need something that's been in Kirmani's possession a long time. Can you get me something? We need to hurry."

She nodded and walked down a ruined hall. She came back with a piece of metal. It was half a badge. I looked at her quizzically.

"It got sent to him the first week of SI. He didn't seem to want to tell, so I didn't ask. But that was his badge."

"Good enough. Drive me back to my office, I need some crystals."

* * *

Please leave comments and advice in the box below. I hope you enjoyed reading. 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N

I know I said watch for an update on the weekend. I am also aware that weekend came and went several weekends ago. Remember what I said about homework and the unwary? Best laid plans, my readers, best laid plans. Anyway, I will try to be better about this in the future. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and many thanks to those who reviewed the last time.

* * *

Howls followed behind relentlessly as Detective Kirmani ran down the street as fast as he could. 

The cat yowled indignantly as he took a turn fast and almost lost his balance. The cat's claws dug into his arm to keep from slipping.

This was insane. First, the cat talks. Then his house gets ransacked by dogs. Now he was trying to find a church. He didn't even know why, except that the talking cat had told him to.

Oh god, they were going to send him to a psyche ward for this one.

There was a crash behind him. Kirmani turned and raised his gun in a fluid movement, squeezing off a shot as the dog turned in his direction.

It exploded into a cloud of ash once the bullet penetrated its skull.

They were easy to kill, which made him feel better. The fact that he was almost out of bullets put a damper on it, though. Easy as they were to kill, he didn't feel that his chances were all that great hand to hand.

"Are we there yet?" The cat asked plainly, if a little oddly. Fact of a cat talking notwithstanding.

"Why don't you walk instead?" He growled at the feline. It gave him a bleary glare.

"Not my fault you don't know where a damn church is. If we die, it's probably your fault."

"Excuse me?! I did not get attacked by these things this morning!"

"Details."

"No, not details! Once we get away from these damn things, you're going to tell me everything, starting with how I can hear you talking!"

Suddenly he spotted a spire coming into view. Yes! He knew there was an old church around here.

He pointed ahead. "There's the old Baptist. That work?!"

"God, I hope so. I'd hate to be eaten at this stage in my life." The cat said conversationally.

Detective Kirmani resisted the urge to drop the cat. A part of his mind reasoned that, if this was truly real, the cat was on painkillers which might affect it the way morphine affects humans. And he had a duty to protect a witness. The larger part rationalized that to get the cats claws unhooked from his arm, he'd have to slow down and there was only two bullets left in his clip.

He put on extra speed as howls kept closing in from behind. The abandoned church was coming closer and closer, but not as fast as the thundering paws behind.

"Damnit!" He turned and fired off a shot at an overeager dog. The other two slowed down as ash washed over them. It bought just enough time to reach the dusty concrete path to the church.

Only slowing down to plant his feet to kick open the boarded doors, Kirmani rushed inside, still gripped the cat.

He tumbled to the ground onto one knee, trying to catch his breath.

The cat slithered away and stepped tenderly on the ground, dragged it back left leg. It wobbled around for a moment, sniffing.

"You need to move Detective. The barrier is weak here."

"What?" He asked breathlessly.

"Trust me. Those dogs out there can bite you on the ass if they feel so inclined. Move towards the altar. Hurry up. They figure stuff out slow, but when they get it, they get it. Get it?" He laughed oddly, then wobbled away, swaying drunkenly past a broken pew.

Kirmani stared at the cat, then shook his head, getting up. He'd come this far, might as well go a few steps more.

A loud bark came from behind. He turned and brought his gun and trained it on one of the big dogs nosing at the doorway. Light blue light was swirling in front of it, somehow keeping it out.

As he watched, the blue light became less and less solid.

"Might wanna hurry Detective. He looks kinda hungry." A voice towards the altar called cheerfully. The cat had somehow found a red cushion to lie down on.

Keeping the gun on the target, he backed up down the aisle. The dog broke through the light barrier and stepped into the church, growling. It began to move forward. Kirmani tensed, ready to shoot.

The dog planted its foot down, but this time a loud hiss erupted from the floorboard. As he watched, the dog feebly tried to move back as it dissolved from the leg up.

The other dogs had been standing at the doorway, watching. Seeing their pack mate die, they stayed outside, watching.

Kirmani stared at the ash on the floor. "Shit."

"Don't profane in church. My mother used to slap me for that." The cat said, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

"What in the hell is going on?!" He demanded, glaring down at the cat, keeping on eye and a ready gun at the dog peering hungrily into the doorway. "You're going to tell me everything right now. Starting with the talking."

The cat was staring at the ground.

"HEY!"

"Hunh? Oh, sorry. The ground was just really fascinating right now. You know, I'm kinda hungry…"

"Are you…on drugs or something? Is this because of the painkillers?" Kirmani stared at the cat disbelievingly. He'd taken in a fair share of drug addicts to know the signs.

"That and a few other things!" The cat chirped, then put his head down. "I'm kinda tired. And hungry. Wake me up in a few hours. Or if there's food. Or…something else. Night."

"Wait…wait, what do you mean a few other things? …never mind." He glared down at the snoring pile of fur.

This had to be the worst day of his life. And if this was real, nobody was going to know about it. Ever.

* * *

Harry tossed the last ingredient in. Murphy stood by his shoulder, watching. 

"You might want to move back." He cautioned, dipping the quartz in.

"Why? Is it going to explode?" She asked sarcastically, a slight edge to her voice.

"It might."

She rose her eyebrow at me and stepped back. I pulled the quartz out and watched as it tilted, gaining it's bearings. It twirled once, twice, then pointed unerringly southeast.

"Great. Let's go." Murphy turned toward the door.

"Not so fast. I need to know what these herbs are real quick." I pulled the bag I had gotten from the alley out of my coat pocket. I upended it's contents on my desk, and picked up the two bundles of herbs. They looked sorry, wilted from too much heat and dried past perfection.

"Will it take long? Why do we need it anyway?" Murphy was growing impatient.

"I want to know what are theriomorph is taking and why. It might help if we know that before moving in on him. It will take one minute, I promise. Stay here."

Putting the quartz in my pocket, I hurried down the hallway and opened the secret door to my lab. Shutting it behind me tightly so that Murphy wouldn't hear me talking 'to myself', I turned and found myself face to face with Bob.

"Geez!"

"Herbs?" He said, nodding to the lab table. He must have been listening in. I set them down.

"The cat is a theriomorph. It had these in its hideout."

"Very interesting. I haven't seen herbs quite like this in a long time…"

"Need to hurry on this Bob."

He studied the herbs for a few seconds, then turned back to me. Pointing to the first bundle, he began his lecture.

"This is Golden Willowroot; it's for the lesser types of magical maladies that come from overworking ones magic reserves. The other is Spineroot; it's for stomach problems, indigestion mostly. Both are quite rare-they can only be grown in soil sown with magic."

"What're they being used for?"

"If I were to guess?" Bob tilted his head. "If the theriomorph has been spending overmuch time in a cat form, chances are that every time it changes back, it gets headaches. And, if it's eating as a cat, well who knows what would happen if it changed back with a rat in its stomach? I'd say it was self-medication."

"So basically a waste of time?" I said, a little annoyed. I was losing precious time.

"Not exactly. The cat was injured? I'm sure they gave it something to keep it sedated. It could be having a very bad effect on the cat right now."

"How bad?"

"Loss of control over magic is the most common symptom. That's only speculation, however. I have no proof that this could happen, but these particular herbs are very sensitive, even after ingested. Any extra factor could tip the entire balance of the mind or body to either side."

"So what's the worst case scenario?" I asked, filing away the information.

"Death."

"…oh." I blinked. "In that case, I'd better get moving. Hey, there's a shield necklace upstairs. Take a look at it for me, it's got some added part favors. I want to know what they're for."

"Be careful." He told me for the second time as I opened the door again.

"Are we ready now?!" Murphy glared up at me as the door opened. She must have been waiting outside.

"Yeah. We're ready. Let's go find Kirmani and the kitty."

I made sure the lab door was shut and followed her out the door.

* * *

"Well?!" A voice hissed impatiently just out of the glow of the seeking sphere. 

"They've concentrated their efforts. Obviously they found him, but are unable to fulfill their objective." Another pointed to a large cluster of black dots in seeming stationary position. The seeking sphere shimmered as the speaker's magic mixed with the harnessed power.

"Why not? They almost had him this morning, and we've just sent ten times as many after him!"

"This morning we caught him by surprise-he never expected an attack in broad daylight. He would have been ready for nightfall. He would have found the safest place to wait until he could gain back enough energy to mount an offensive."

"You give this pseudo alchemist too much credit."

"But I give Harry Dresden his due-and there is only one reason for the alchemist to go to Chicago."

* * *

"Holy shit." Murphy looked out the windshield. 

I had to agree.

The scrying had apparently worked. We were outside an old church, and judging by the fifteen or so demon dogs circling the entrance, I guessed we were in the right place.

I don't know where I expected to end up, but I hadn't guessed a church. Maybe with all that was going on and the evidence of the apartment, I expected Kirmani to get caught. Maybe the cat had warned him somehow? Arranged his kitty kibble in an S.O.S?

I saw several of the big nasties turn their ugly heads towards the car and glare, but not move from their place.

Interesting. I found my mind drifting back to the thought I had less than an hour before. We were outnumbered, they obviously weren't here to play fetch (in the more domestic term), and if I were an evil dark wizard that wanted a certain theriomorph dead or alive, I wouldn't waste time telling them not to attack anybody else.

So why were they just staring, and not attacking?

A glimmer of a stupid idea hit me.

I opened the door and stepped out into the streets, ignoring Murphy's yell. I stepped towards one of the biggest, ugliest dogs there.

Wow, it was even uglier up close. It glared at me and bared it's teeth. It had A LOT of teeth. Part of me started gibbering in fear and pushing the sane part of me to start running as fast as I could. I wanted to listen, more so when the putrid breath rolled out of its mouth.

But it didn't attack. In fact, it looked frustrated, if the monstrous face could show emotion.

"Dresden?" Murphy's voice rose behind me quietly.

I glanced at her over my shoulder. Her shotgun was at the ready.

"It's alright." I turned back to the dog. It had a perfect opportunity to take my head off, but it didn't. "I think its been bound."

Binding. Like what I was going to do with our theriomorph friend, but different. These things were still able to move freely, but the damage they were able to cause was restricted, probably to our kitty-cat friend.

Kind of out of character for dark mage types. The cat is going to have a lot of explaining to do.

"Let's go to church. Don't waste your ammo. And don't get too close."

"Yes mom." Murphy said sarcastically as she followed me towards the door. Her natural cop's instinct had her walking at an angle that allowed her to keep an eye on as many of the dogs as possible.

I stepped gingerly over the wreckage of the broken front doorand stepped across the threshold. It was old-it barely even picked at my clothes. But stepping farther into the church, I could feel the faith the church once housed stirring beneath my feet.

Faith magic tend to build in places where lots of faithful gather. That magic makes a barrier against anything even remotely dark and/or Never Never. And this church had been used for many years, so even though it had been abandoned, a strong magical barrier still enveloped the core of the church.

The sound of a gun being readied made me freeze.

"Identify yourself!" A voice called from the front of the church.

"Kirmani?" Murphy called back.

"Leuitenant?" Kirmani's voice held an edge of caution. I saw him move from his spot hidden beside the altar.

"Ron? You alright?" Murphy lowered her gun.

"Could be better." I heard him mutter. "You should probably come on over here."

"Why?"

His silence was deafening.

"Ron?"

"…Because the cat told me it's the safest place."

* * *

Please leave your reviews as you see fit. Thank you for reading! 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N

A double chapter update. Please enjoy, and don't be the slightest bit reserved in constructive criticisms!

Title: **Lost and Found**, or **My Name's Not Fluffy, Jerk**.

* * *

I picked up the blonde ball of fur from the cushion it had been resting on. I kept half an ear to Kirmani's conversation with Murphy. He was pretty stressed-he actually looked relieved to see both of us. Never thought I'd see the day.

The cat looked ordinary, well, except for the lying like dead weight in my hands. I could feel the heartbeat and uneven breathing, but that was the only indication the cat was alive.

Not even the tail was twitching. I hoped that wasn't a bad omen.

"Wakey wakey, kitty." I immediately felt stupid. But it wouldn't be the first time, so I kept trying to coax the cat into wakefulness. "Wake up. I need to ask you something."

"He's been out for awhile. I thought he was dead a couple times." Kirmani supplied.

"Great." I sighed. "Hey! Wake up!"

"Good Dresden. Yell at the comatose cat. Can we do something more productive now?" Murphy asked, hefting her shotgun.

"We might be able to wake him up with some stuff at my place. But we're going to have to make a run for the car. Those dogs may not attack us, but they'll go after him."

"Why don't we bring the car around? Jump right in and drive off?"

Count on Murphy to come up with the best ideas. I glanced over at her and nodded. She turned and walked back to the doors. Kirmani rose to go with her, but she waved him down. He looked a bit relieved. He probably had his fill of those dogs, I realized.

Kirmani looked at the cat, then he looked at me.

"Does the cat really talk?"

I looked at him. He had the look in his eyes of someone desperately trying to stay on the same path that he'd always walked, but had lost the way. Probably because a huge earthquake of realization demolished it. Or…something like that.

"I don't know. But if you heard him, he probably does."

"That's the kind of stuff they say to nutcases to keep them quiet."

"Just trying to help you out."

He was quiet for a moment, then he smirked. "You know, he reminds me of you. A real pain in the ass."

A shotgun went off and anguished yelps sounded outside. Murphy came back in running, with a big dog following her in. It hit the recessed barrier and exploded into black ash that she just barely outran.

She reached us and bent over panting.

"I think we need another plan." She said looking up. "They just got nasty."

"Hey…" A slightly wobbling voice came from the crook of my arm. "What's going on? Who's the pretty lady with the shotgun?"

I watched in disbelief as the cat's head came up and swiveled around to look at me.

"Is that you, Harry Dresden?"

"Do I know you?"

"No."

I waited for him to say something else. He didn't. Murphy had her mouth wide open, staring at the now awake cat. Kirmani just looked at her, with a slightly satisfied look on his face. Misery loves company, I guess.

"So…How do you know me?"

"You're on the internet. And in the Chicago phonebook."

"…I'm on the internet?"

"Un-hunh. Even with a picture. S'really unflattering though. I think you were being arrested or somethin'. And I think that lady was in it…"

I was beginning to notice things about the cat's mannerisms. First off, he sounded drunk. I'm betting that was the 'bad effect' Bob had spoken about. Secondly, his magical aura was bouncing in all directions. I could actually feel it moving. That must be the loss of magical control. That worried me more than the drunkenness of his movements. All wizards, hedge wizards and up, all had a subconscious control of their auras that never let up, and always kept the aura close to themselves. I actually felt parts of his aura detach and move to another area of his body. I could only imagine how messed up his magic was going to be after this.

"I was looking for you." The cat said suddenly, wrenching me back from my thoughts.

"Why?"

"I have this problem."

"Does it include big nasty dogs that explode into ash?" Murphy muttered, barely audible.

"Not until recently." The cat flicked his ears forward. "They just came this morning."

"Good hearing." Murphy said, impressed.

"What's the problem?" I asked cautiously.

"These people wanna kill me." He said simply. "I suppose you could say it was my fault, but they started it. And really, they-"

He actually began to ramble on about a conversation that was half forgotten. He often stumbled over what he was trying to say. It seemed to be more difficult for him to talk as he went on.

I was beginning to have the nasty suspicion that anything we got out of him at this stage might be a little on the suspect side.

I hoped Bob was having more luck with the necklace.

* * *

Said ghost was bent over the shield necklace, muttering to himself as he passed his hand over the enchantments, deciphering old magics that clung to the copper and tarnished silver, while new magics clung to the pieces that kept a great deal of their former glory.

It was interesting. The shield necklace had obviously been passed down, and recently it came into the possession of someone who had a faint idea of how to repair magics. The old magics had the signs of wear and tear of time and battle, and someone had been infusing the older magics with more strength while repairing holes with new magics and fixing contradicting aura flows (however clumsily) with a rather ingeniously simple device-a tiny sliver of iron. The iron blocked the passage of magics, keeping the flows of enchantments separate.

In truth, it was the only thing that would keep the wearer from blowing themselves into tiny different pieces. So many enchantments, old ones never cleaned off and new ones layered hastily on top of old, made for a very dangerous hodgepodge of unstable magics. The iron separated the flows, kept them separate, and made the necklace safe enough for the wearer. For the time being, at least.

Most interesting was the enchantment set into the stylized cat. It was a transportation magic of some kind, but not for the wearer. For something else, which would require more time to decipher.

* * *

"Soo….talking cat aside," The woman said slowly, keeping an eye on Andy as he muttered to himself about something he was forgetting as soon as it came out of his mouth, "Can you tell me why Scooby Doo and the gang just tried to bite my head off?"

"Well…I really have no clue." Dresden confessed, still holding Andy. "But I bet Fluffy here can tell us a soon as we get him straightened out."

'_Fluffy. Hunh. Jerk_.' Andy thought as he tried to make a valiant effort to pull his thoughts together. The nap had actually made things worse, and he had a sneaking suspicion of why.

Of course, that suspicion would amount to nothing if he couldn't get the cure. If he could get the cure or tell someone how to make it, then maybe he would have to ride out another five hours of hallucinations and be done with it. If not, well, the side effects could last for days.

'_Stupid herbs_.'

"When can we get him straightened out?" The lady asked.

"Probably after dawn. Hopefully. These things are probably putting on a huge drain of magic on wherever the source is, so the enchantment should fall apart by dawn. Then we can get out of here."

'_Stupid dogs_.'

He was beginning to feel a little petulant about the entire thing, which, when seeing and hearing hallucinations, is a difficult feat.

"What if it doesn't?" The detective asked. Kermin? Kamali? Kermit? It was so hard to remember things. Usually he relied quite heavily on his memory. But right now it was failing him left and right.

"Then I take this here staff and I set the doggies on fire." Dresden said, nodding to the stick sitting beside the pew. Was it a staff? He couldn't tell.

The woman sat down in a still sturdy pew and rested her shotgun across her knees. "So we wait?"

"We wait." Andy felt the world dip suddenly and he was back on his pretty red cushion. He laid his head down on it thankfully. Being held up by some gargantuan wizard when the world is already spinning isn't a pleasant experience.

He closed his eyes again. Hopefully, sleep would cure all ills, or at least replace them with ones that don't include vertigo or hallucinations.

He awakened almost as soon as his eyes closed…or was that a trick his mind played on him? He couldn't be sure, given his current health. But the world seemed clearer, and the pews didn't move or turn into ravenous beasts to rend and tear.

His leg hurt. The pain brought the world into sharper focus. The woman was sleeping, so was Detective Kermit, and even Dresden was nodding off.

But then the price of a focused mind set in.

A splitting headache permeated every thought, and he groaned and buried his head into the cushion.

'_Stupid hangover. Didn't even get a buzz_.'

"Are you okay?" Harry Dresden had one eye open, looking at the cat. Andy glared at him. He smirked slightly. "Guess that's a no?"

"Damn right." He closed his eyes and flattened his ears back. It seemed to alleviate some pain.

He wasn't privy to some of the pain tolerating magics that some wizards and witches knew. It was a difficult thing to learn, and gravely dangerous if used incorrectly. So, he had to rely on more unorthodox methods.

He sat up, and contorted his body into a cat shape all but impossible for humans to attempt. One of the reasons he loved being a cat so much was the flexibility involved. He could sneak into anywhere with it. But, that was not what he was using it for now.

Bandages had been falling apart on his leg for awhile now-there was a large patch of exposed fur and stitched wound in his reach.

He sank his teeth deep into the wound.

"What the hell are you doing!?" Dresden's yell woke the others. Andy ignored him, and kept clamping down until the pain in his leg was so great, the pain in his head suddenly canceled out. He left go then, gingerly putting the leg down.

"Much better." He sighed. The pounding in his leg heightened it's tempo in malevolent response.

"I'm going to repeat myself: What the hell are you doing?!" Dresden growled.

"I was just getting rid of my headache. I can't really tell anybody how to make a cure for the drugs in my system if I'm burying my head into any space that will fill it, can I?" He snapped back peevishly.

"Just? _Just_? You just bit an unhealed wound-Wait…you don't sound drunk anymore. Did the drugs where off?" Dresden looked down at him curiously.

"A little. Not much. I need a cure. My headache will be back soon." The cat said, flattening his ears back in distaste.

"Well," Dresden looked at the dusty windows. "If I'm not mistaken, dawn is coming up over the horizon. Hopefully the dogs will be gone, and we can get out of here. And then," He pointed a finger at the cat, "you have some explaining to do. And no help from me or anybody until I get some questions answered. Got it?"

Andy sulked a bit. His own cat nature made him independent to a fault, and it had been a struggle to convince himself to find help. Cats have never taken orders well, and Andy had been a cat so long the mannerisms of the species had become his own. Even so, he was still human enough to swallow his pride.

"Got it."

"And no more biting yourself! It's creepy."

* * *

Please leave reviews if you are so inclined! 


	6. Chapter 6

A/N

Second chapter of two chapter update. I hope you enjoy: We finally discover the cat's true reason for coming to Chicago.

Note: this is a re-upload-tigerlily0 caught a mistake I felt obligated to correct. To tigerlily0, who caught my writing mistake, thank you for bringing it to my attention. Sometimes my fingers substitute odd things for what makes sense in my brain, and I like to thank you for calling me out on it. I'll be more careful in the future. :)

Title: **The Cat Comes Out of the Bag** or **Confessions of a Stray**

* * *

Dawn came and the dogs disappeared, glaring at all of us as they did. No black ash, just disappeared in a poof of smoke. 

Which would be kind of cool if it weren't for the fact that I was sure they'd be back later to finish the job.

The drive back to my office was quick, if strained. Murphy called the precinct to tell them we were chasing down a lead. She didn't say anything about the cat that was sitting on the cushion beside me, telling me different herbs that I was hastily writing down. I figured the drive back had better be productive: the faster the cat got coherent, the faster I got answers.

I only hoped that Bob recognized the potion, because the way the cat was going, even after biting himself (again), he still wasn't clear enough to make me one hundred percent sure his potions would work.

We got back to my office in record time and everyone jumped out in a hurry to get inside.

"Now what?" Murphy glanced down at the cat I put on the desk. It unsteadily looked back with a slight glare. Another symptom that just showed up was sudden random hostility. Or maybe that was just because he was a cat.

"I'm going to make up this potion. I think I have all the ingredients. Keep an eye on him, willya?" I walked away before she could say anything.

I got down into the lab and shut the door tight behind me.

"Harry!" Bob materialized in front of me.

"Geez!" I stepped back startled. "Stop that! And keep it down, Kirmani and Murph are here."

"Sorry. Did you find the Theriomorph?"

"With Murph. He gave me a recipe for a cure." I set it down on the table. "Recognize anything?"

He studied it for a minute, then nodded. "I've seen the like. Some deviations, but it's a purifier."

"Purifier?"

"Most likely to disintegrate the drugs in his system at an accelerated rate, while these ingredients," he pointed to a few of the sprawled notes I made, "will act to suppress the effects already being experienced."

"Nice. A Cure-all."

"Dangerous. Only to be used in a situation like the one our theriomorphic friend has found himself in. Anytime else would accelerate the breakdown of any drug in the human system, as well as hormones, metals, electrical gradients…the list goes on. A very bad way to die."

"That's not so nice." I commented. Bob nodded.

"A reason that it's not used much at all. Except in worse case scenarios."

"This one?"

"He obviously thinks so." Bob shrugged.

"Should I go forward with this? I don't know if he even knows where he is, he's so out of it. And what about the deviations?"

"All purifying potions have deviations. There's almost no standardization. And as far as we can tell, he is coherent enough to give us a potion recipe, which, for all intents and purposes, looks valid."

Bob had that look in his eyes. It was curiosity. He wanted to see if the potion actually worked, I could tell. And I really didn't have any other options.

"I hope I'm not making a mistake." I muttered, getting my equipment out. "If he dies, I'll never know who wants to kill him."

* * *

When Harry Dresden put the bowl in front of him with purpleish yellow liquid, he had misgivings. To be kind. 

When he actually tried to drink the potion, lapping with his tongue, his eyes stung and his stomach threatened to heave his non-lunch back out along with the offensive liquid.

He pushed those thoughts down and drank as much of it as he could. It didn't need to be much. He was a cat, not a mastiff.

After drinking down the last tongueful he dared to take from the dish, he stumbled away and hid his body under a chair.

He heard Dresden make a remark about hairballs, and pinned his ears back. If it weren't for the fact that he needed help…

The world title abruptly and he felt the sensitive hair rimming his ears wave in one motion as his aura lifted off his body in one fluid movement, then come crashing back down, burying itself into his fur.

He hadn't realized it had been moving at all. The world tilted again, and what he had thought was an oddly turtle shaped rug disappeared, replacing it with the ugliest green rug he had ever seen.

He blinked at it, then shook his head. Nausea rebelled in his stomach, and his leg still hurt, but it looked like Dresden, for all intentional purposes, had recreated his purifier.

Good!

"How do you feel?" Dresden asked. He turned to see his face a foot from his tail and jumped a little.

"I'm fine. Thank you." Andy got up and limped out from under the chair.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Dresden asked.

"Two, unless I'm still hallucinating and you had a horrible accident." He informed the wizard wryly. The potion's effect has been almost instantaneous, and besides the upset stomach, which he was sure he'd survive, he was feeling much better.

"Good. Question Answer time."

Andy swallowed a protest at being picked up and deposited on the desk. He had, after all, promised, even though this Dresden wizard had obviously no idea how to treat a cat.

"First up: Who are you?"

"My name is Andy Rees. I'm from New York state."

Dresden looked at me incredulously. "You couldn't have found help closer to home?"

"I couldn't get anyone to listen to me. I don't know if you realize this, but you happen to be the only advertising wizard there is."

"What about the High Council?"

It was a breach of protocol to talk about the council in front of non-magic community, but Andy recognized that at this point, there was probably no point in hiding from the two detectives. Besides, he had finally figured out the names of both detectives in the time Dresden made the potion, and he felt quite a bit more comfortable with them now.

"You would know them better than I, by rumors-I tried to catch a warden to tell them what was happening, but he informed me that he had to fight a war, and scuffles between hedge-wizards weren't high on their priorities. I wasn't aware that any war was happening, and when I told him so, he laughed and said that it was because it was 'over my head'. By the end of the conversation, he had stepped on my tail and told me to get lost. After that, it got a little nasty. Yelling. That sort of thing. And him getting arrested."

"You got a warden arrested?" Dresden blinked.

Andy flitted his tail smugly. "There only so much disturbing the peace you can do yelling at a cat until the cops show up."

"That's not going to help you in the long run. You shouldn't mess with the wardens."

The cat examined his claws. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Dresden shook his head. "So why exactly were you trying to get help in the first place?"

"Well, you see, I have this apartment on the very top floor of a building in Upstate New York where I do my gardening, and-"

"You garden?!" Kirmani's voice cut in incredulously.

"Yes. Daisies." He shot off with bristling sarcasm. "You gonna let me talk? Good. Like I was saying, I have this apartment, and six floors down lives Old Ugly Mattie, who spends her off times giving potions to people that come around for them. Love potions, weight potions, penny-luck potions, you know the stuff. Lots of show, little work, negative consequence two out of three times taken.

"Anyway, Ugly Mattie has this daughter named Cherile. I don't know why she named her that. Don't ask. Anyway, Cherile has no magic talent. But she brags to her friends that she can make a love potion to make some guy fall for some girl as part of a bet. Only, from what Ugly Mattie told me, there were no love potions around, so the girl goes through her spell book to find the recipe."

"Oh god." Dresden whispered.

"I see you know where this is going. Anyway, she follows it just like it says, because she certainly doesn't want to make a mistake. She doesn't want to kill the boy. She makes it just like the recipe says, perfectly. Gives it to the boy. Boy almost dies."

"What was in the recipe?"

"Arsenic for thinness, Nightshade for a loss in focal clarity. And a few dozen other things. It's supposed to go that the names lend more to the spell than the ingredients, and if the giver says the name of the person that the drinker is supposed to fall in love with, the nightshade dims their focus until they see said person or until the potion wears off. When they see them, a default impression of beauty is cast, hence arsenic, for thinness of the person being impressed. It's really a good spell, done properly."

"But didn't you just say she followed it perfectly?" Murphy asked.

"Doesn't matter." Dresden said. "You need to have magic to make those potions work. In reality, the only thing that really makes a potion _is_ the magic."

"Right. And with the amounts of arsenic and nightshade in the potion, it was lucky the kid survived at all." Andy nodded.

"So what happened after that?" Dresden prompted.

"After that, the ambulance brought the boy to the hospital, police take in Cherile, who hysterically points the blame at Ugly Mattie. They go to Ugly Mattie's house, and find her recipe book in the search. Only she took the time awhile back to enchant it, so when people look at the love spell potion that is not one of her blood relatives, all they see is Ugly Mattie's 'Super Special Cherry Love Surprise.' It's a recipe for cherry cheesecake. The police don't find her herb stores either. They end up sending Cherile to a juvenile detention center, under charges of grievously injuring her classmate, or something like that. And Ugly Mattie was going to let her do her time, a couple years, because she informed me that was the 'only way the girl was going to learn her lesson about magic'. I thought it was a little cold, but I have no children, and hence no children that poison other children, so I didn't voice my opinion.

"Not long after, Cherile gets broken out of Juvie. By the boy's father. Who is very much a wizard, and very upset. Cherile spills her guts, partially out of fear, partially because she's feeling the need to lash out. So the guy comes to our apartment complex and knocks on Ugly Mattie's door and threatens her so loud that I can hear him on the roof. She doesn't answer the door, cops show up, guy has to leave. Only he comes back the next night. And the next. Demands that Ugly Mattie duel with him. Except there's a problem."

Dresden cocked his head. "Which is?"

"Ugly Mattie skipped town after the first night. Haven't seen her since. She even left her shield necklace with me. I had been fixing it, and she left it behind. Anyway, the doorman tells the guy Ugly Mattie's not around anymore, and he flips out. Said that we were just protecting her, and he'd see all of us sent straight to hell.

"That's when he started to bring friends. And then accidents started happening. The people began freaking out, and then I got lots of attention. After Ugly Mattie left, I was the strongest practitioner, and they wanted me to do something. Me, an alchemist, against a half dozen wizards. I can barely evocate flames to my burners. I'm more strictly potions and enchanted artifacts. Any speaking spell I do takes three times as long as any other practitioner."

"But you tried anyway." Murphy said quietly.

"Of course I did. With great reservation. Knowing that anything I did would probably blow up in my face, I went ahead and snuck into the father's house as a cat and stole a piece of his clothing. I went to his little friends' houses, and stole some stuff from them. It took me a week with accidents getting progressively worse to make the full binding circle, the dolls, the energy focuses, everything. I tried to do a full binding on them, to rob them of their powers and force them to back down and stay away."

"It didn't work." Dresden said, raising an eyebrow.

"That's the thing-it did. The accidents stopped instantly. The people were safe, and they were so grateful that they stopped bothering me about my apartment smelling like burning fish all the time."

"Sooo….Why do you need help, if everything worked out?" The wizard asked with a questioning gesture.

"Two days later, my greenhouse on the roof burst into bright blue flames. My entire crop was lost, except for the ones I kept in my apartment for my transformations. When I went up there to put out the flames with whatever I could, all six of those little bastards were standing on the neighboring rooftop. Looking at me. Said I was really brave to bind them to myself, to make it so they can't harm anybody but me. It was then I realized I was screwed big time and took off before they could fry me with fireballs. I got my emergency bag, pruned off some of my surviving plant's leaves, picked up a few things, and bolted out the building after transforming. They weren't expecting a cat with a backpack, so they probably didn't realize I was gone until later. I tried to tell the warden-no luck. Tried a few other people in the New York circuit-got stonewalled. They were either too apathetic or too frightened of these wizards to care. So I decided to look abroad-came across your picture on the internet. I had heard of your reputation, and at that point, no offense, I had nothing to lose."

Dresden was dumbstruck.

Kirmani looked up at the cat. "Then, if they can't attack anybody but you, why did those dogs attack us?"

"The binding is bleeding. The longer I stay in the presence of another person, the more chance that whatever restricted the wizards before fails against that person. Meaning they can attack that person I ally with. What I need, Harry Dresden, is someone to help me do another binding or to repair the spell I've already done. Without it, I'm as good as dead. And I have the striking feeling that if I hadn't bound the boy's father to me, along with his cronies, that they'd cause some sort of other problems. Six wizards don't pal around to fry another person unless they've each had some experience in the matter."

Andy looked up at Harry Dresden. "Well? Can I get some help on this or am I out of luck?"

* * *

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